The Dread of Damned

I woke as the moon rose in the sky, its silver glow spilling into the room. A hand rested on my stomach. I turned my head to the side—she was sleeping, her face serene yet marred with tear tracks, smeared makeup, saliva, and the remnants of cum. White bite marks, deep scratches, and deep fangs marks adorned her soft skin like proof of her submission.

Her stomach was still swollen with cum, her body instinctively clenching even in sleep. I ran my fingers through her white hair, and she moaned softly, shifting as if seeking more of my touch.

The sight of her bulging stomach stirred something in me. I recalled our last conversation—how she had asked to bear my child. The idea exhilarated me. More than fatherhood, more than the notion of a legacy, what truly excited me was witnessing the transformation of her body. Watching her stomach swell, growing taut and full. Seeing her breasts change, heavy with blood and milk. The thought of ruining her insides while she carried my child sent a thrill through me.

I wanted to empty her breasts, to make her cry out in pain and ecstasy. As for the child itself, I had no concerns. She would train it well, whatever it turned out to be. And I never had to worry about resources—money, status, power—none of it was an issue.

I rose from the bed and made my way to the washroom. Stepping into the bathtub, I submerged myself, letting the water cleanse me.

Moments later, she entered, silent but purposeful, before slipping into the bath with me.

"You woke up, huh?" I murmured, draping an arm around her, cupping her breast absentmindedly.

"Yes." She leaned into my chest, her voice quiet.

A pause. Then, after a moment, she asked, "I wanted to ask again—do I truly have your permission?"

"For getting pregnant?" I asked. 

she clarified with a nod.

I opened my eyes and met hers, studying her expression. My fingers traced the strands of her silver hair.

"If you think you can raise the child properly—to be obedient and not a burden to me—then go on," I said.

She smiled at my answer. "I promise," she whispered, closing her eyes.

As I watched, her distended stomach slowly flattened, returning to its normal size. A soft moan escaped her lips as the shift settled within her.

"So what now? Are you pregnant?" I asked.

"It will take a few days for the process to begin, but it should be confirmed," she replied.

"Good, then," I murmured, leaning back in the tub. She rested against me, and I ran my fingers over her body, savoring the way she purred in response.

After a while, we stepped out. She donned a robe and left for her room. I dressed in the tailored suit I had received as a gift and lay down for a moment, noting that the sheets had already been changed.

A knock at the door interrupted my thoughts.

"Your Highness, the court is ready. They are waiting for you now," Lucian announced.

I sat up and adjusted my cuffs before rising. "Then let's go."

We walked down the hallway, Lucian trailing behind me.

"How is Elina these days?" I asked.

"She is well," he answered.

"I should visit her sometime. I've been too busy lately."

"She would surely be delighted."

A quiet chuckle left my lips as we approached the grand hall. The guards at the entrance saluted, then pushed open the towering doors.

The hall stretched beyond my vision—marble tiles laced with dark silver patterns, towering chandeliers casting ethereal light, and fifty figures standing in disciplined lines. Above them, seated upon the dark silver throne, was my father.

I stepped inside, memories stirring—of the day I returned from the academy, when he first welcomed me here.

The figures parted as I approached, bowing low.

"Greetings to the Crown Prince."

"Greetings to the Moon Successor."

Their voices echoed through the hall. I ascended the stairs and took my seat beside my father, where a throne had been placed for me.

"At ease," I said lazily, and they straightened.

Kai stepped forward and spoke. "We congratulate Your Royal Highness on assuming the highest position in House Aestherisin. It is our privilege to stand in the presence of a Moon Successor in our lifetime."

The others followed suit, offering their formalities before returning to position.

"There is one present today who wishes to submit a plea before the court," The elder Victor Maxim announced.

"The son of the condemned Gunnar."

"Let him enter," my father said. I leaned back against my throne, watching as the heavy doors swung open once more.

A man stepped inside. He bore a striking resemblance to his father—broad-shouldered, his hair a muddied white, his eyes cast downward. Yet, unlike his father, he moved with quiet grace, his posture humble but unwavering.

He reached the forefront and lowered his head. "I greet His Majesty and His Royal Highness," he said.

"My name is Vicaris. I returned home two days ago to the news that my family had been exterminated."

A pause. Then, with measured restraint, he continued, "I have come to present myself to the court."

My father regarded him. "So you have come to receive your punishment?"

Vicaris did not flinch. "If every member of House Blackwood is to be eradicated, then I will not escape my fate."

His voice remained steady. "Yet I have learned what transpired. What was killed was a damned monster, not my father."

I tilted my head. "Are you saying your father would not have knowingly collaborated with the damned?"

He hesitated.

"He was undoubtedly greedy," He admitted. "But he was not foolish enough to bring harm to House Aestherisin. That, I can swear on my life."

"Then I will have your life," I said, my tone indifferent as I studied him.

"To die by the hands of the Moon Successor would be an honour." His voice was indifferent. 

An elder stepped forward. "Victor has been stationed at the border for quite some time. He has contributed significantly in numerous battles against the damned."

"We believe his service warrants clemency," another elder added.

I could see through their intentions. They needed someone—a shield, a figurehead—to replace Gunnar in court.

"Gunnar may have been a traitor, but House Blackwood serves too many essential functions to be dismantled overnight," one of the elders argued.

I exhaled, letting the weight of their words settle. Then, after a beat, I turned to Victor.

"Fine. I can spare your life. But tell me, do you intend to take your father's position?"

Victor lifted his head. "I have come for one purpose alone."

"And that is?"

"To serve the Crown and the Second Moon Successor," he said firmly. "I have fought the damned for too long. I care nothing for power or politics. I have only one wish."

He finally met my eyes, unwavering. "To see end of the dread of damned."

A heavy silence filled the hall.

"And only now, with the rise of the Second Moon Successor, do I dare to believe this dream possible."

I studied him for a moment, intrigued.

"You wish to serve me?" I asked.

"Yes. I wish to aid your rule."

"Fine, then. Speak with Lucian later, and we will see if you can handle the responsibilities of House Blackwood."

He bowed deeply before turning to leave.

With that matter settled, I leaned forward, my gaze sweeping over the court. "Now… let us discuss House Lewellyn."

I smirked as they stiffened.

"I have learned some interesting things."

Spoiler

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